Shout and Feel It, But Don't Get Caught
by Poltergeist Girl
Summary: The boys, Peter, Thomas and Arvid go out to their favourite club for what they hope is a normal night of dancing, but the HJ just never learn now, do they? Rated 'T' for mild violence, mentions of Nazis and Hitler.


**PoltergeistGirl: **This is the first real Swing Kids fanfiction I've attempted that hasn't had OC's in them. It's also the only one I'm the most proud of, thus I'm posting it here to be shown off. I hope you all enjoy it, and don't forget to review!

And remember, I don't own these boys or anything in the Swing Kids 'verse for that matter. But you knew that already (I hope..)

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The three friends entered the club, feeling that sudden rush of excitement. Horns blared and drums beat off the sweet sound that captured everything that just made life seem so sweet. The tallest of the three, Peter Muller, gained a bounce in his step as he twirled his umbrella around in his one hand. A grin formed on his face, his brown eyes drifting over to the second tallest; Thomas Berger--his partner in crime. 

Thomas' smile spread from ear to ear. He shimmied out before his friends, twirling on

his two-toned shoes, before gracefully slipping off his jacket. The jacket found it's way onto a chair at a vacant table before he slid onto the dance floor.

Peter was quick to join, leaving the third of their group, Arvid, to find a seat at the table Thomas had claimed just moments ago. His clubed foot prevented him from dancing, but that didn't sway him from enjoying the music. He set out a sleek guitar case on the table, taking out his pride and joy. He had a gig that night, playing some Count Basie. Arvid would've preferred to play something from his favourite artist, Django Reinhardt, but he was known never to make a fuss when it came to the genre of swing.

Out on the dance floor, Thomas and Peter followed each other's lead, ducking and spinning, feet never missing a beat or a step. They were pros at what they did, and it showed in their enjoyment.

The crowed quickly separated into a dance-off formation, as was a quite normal occurance in the swing clubs. Peter and Thomas immediately took center stage to show off their moves. The taller brunette took his performance solo, while Thomas pulled a girl from the crowd. She came willingly, and in her bright shoes and perfect dancing outfit, matched each of Thomas Berger's moves step for step, sway for sway. She was flipped and spun and led around in a routine entirely made up on the spot, though it seemed like a rehearsed number.

The swing clubs, though hidden, were the only release the 'untainted' German youth had from Hitler and his dictatorship.

As soon as the first song ended and the next one was about to begin, the club's Emcee took the stage and introduced Arvid to the crowed. He was met with cheers and applause, the crowd knowing his skills as well as they knew the moves of the dance.

In a heatbeat, the band had started up again, playing that oh-so-familiar tune. Arvid strummed rhythmatically to the opening of the song, anxiously awaiting his solo while he glimpsed at the dancers on the floor. Flashy Zoot-suits and colourful dresses melded together in the mass of attendees.

The night was still young and everyone knew it. Tonight was feeling like a perfect night where absolutely nothing could go wrong.

Just as each song stopped and another begun, the smells of liquor and smoke rose in the atmosphere, easing the tensions of the days long labouring, discrimination, and in some cases, even the tension of having to hide religion from the Nazi soldiers.

Thomas, Peter and Arvid were only highschool students. They went to school with a mix of students and knew the swingers from the Hitler Jugend. The jewish students had long-since been run out, save for the few who found a way of hiding it (including Arvid, but his friends hardly ever acknowledged that fact).

The Hitler Jugend were rapidly taking over the belief of each and every 'pure' boy around, quickly deciding the 'masters' from the rest. They thrived on serving their country, and never disobeyed a single comand from their Führer. The three boys had been lucky not to get mixed up in the insanity of the war, but as it seemed, it would only be a matter of time. Most of their friends had enlisted and were trying to persuade them to do the same. Whatever excuses they came up with for reasons not to join must've been very good, being as they'd stayed out right up until this point, and even still had no intention on ever joining if they could help it.

Yet another catchy song started up and found Peter and Thomas both with pretty and talented partners. Peter's was a regular; a girl whom he'd begun to really like, and the same went for her. Thomas, on the other hand, had a slew of girls who wanted to dance with him. He had a boyish charm and personality that must really radiate and just capture their spirits. With Thomas and Peter, it was almost like dancing on air.

Arvid continued to play with the band, his lightning fast fingers never missing a chord. He'd done it a million times before, yet each time he played, it seemed like a first. He continually got those rushes of excitement from being up there with the house band,

imagining that he was probably in the exact same spot where many of his idols must've begun.

His dark brown hair flopped down in his face and over his glasses as he got right into the beat yet again. The music was like oxygen, allowing Arvid to freely and easily keep in tune.

It was when everyone had really gotten into the song when things began to get sour. The doors burst open to gasps and general mumbling as the band abruptly cut off in mid note, and those sorely despised uniforms broke into the room and through the crowd.

Arvid jumped up from his spot on the stage as best as he could, slightly stumbling in his own clumbsiness. The club's MC quickly hurried him towards backstage, and the back exit in hopes of none of the HJ's who had just entered club catching him.

On the dance floor, a mad frenzy began of swingers trying to get out of the club without being harmed or arrested. Peter and Thomas stayed calm with their dance partners held close. A silent and mutual agreement was made that they'd attempt to duck out the same way Arvid had managed to escape. Thomas and the two girls were edged on first, while Peter made a very quick swipe for their coats. His efforts were interrupted by a hand clamping down on his forearm. Peter's eyes trailed up the perfectly pressed fabric to meet the face of an old friend. It seemed yet another passionate swinger turned himself over to the other side.

He went to jerk his hand away, and in successfully doing so, was returned with a fist meeting the side of his face. The pain echoed in his mind and through his nerves before he found the will to fight back, laying a punch of his own.

Thomas stood out behind the club with Arvid and the two dance partners, bouncing on his spot as he shifted weight from foot to foot. His anxiousness and concern for Peter were bubbling up to a point where he felt like bursting back into the club. Arvid advised him against it, reminding him that Peter was capable of fighting.

Back inside, the panic of swingers had changed to a full out brawl. The Hitler Jugend began to use sheer force to beat the harmless teenagers into submission. The luck ones who had gotten out would get their taste later; the HJ were becoming more resourceful, and with each swinger they recruited, another illegal swing club became known.

Peter was extra lucky to be able to defend himself and eventually manage to slip out with only minor injuries. He quickly snuck around to meet with his friends, and once there, all three of them, including the girls continued to sneak away past the HJ's who were patroling the street in front of the club.

That'd be the last time any of them would ever see that club.


End file.
